


Born to Die///Out of Eden

by Archangelsings



Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU Dual Worlds, AU Fantasy, AU University, Dark Fantasy, ElitistDouche!Liam, Errr I'm from le states if me lingo is wrong GOMEN, F/F, F/M, Immortal!Zayn, Lightweight!Liam, M/M, Multi, MusicMajor!Harry, MusicMajor!Niall, Pianist!Harry - Freeform, Singer!Harry, Succubus!Perrie, guitarist!Niall, singer!niall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangelsings/pseuds/Archangelsings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall's had a pretty shit day so what better to top it all off with than having to save a bleeding, bloody, stranger outside a club. Nothing right?</p><p>Feckin' Hell.</p><p>Oh yeah. Almost forgot to mention that this stranger happens to be immortal</p><p>And pretty fucking hot too.</p><p>Well shit.</p><p>Or</p><p>The one where Niall is an overstressed Uni Music Major, Liam is his elitist and kinda douchey flatmate, Harry is Niall's music loving classmate from America, Louis is a total bad ass with a scar and everything and Zayn is well... just a little... teeny tiny bit immortal. And from another world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Body Electric

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miraal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miraal/gifts), [photo41](https://archiveofourown.org/users/photo41/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Class Conflict](https://archiveofourown.org/works/904708) by [photo41](https://archiveofourown.org/users/photo41/pseuds/photo41). 
  * Inspired by [Privilege](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113756) by [Miraal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miraal/pseuds/Miraal). 



> Okay so let me just start off by saying. I'M AMERICAN sooo I'm sorry if my like brit/Irish speak is like shit.  
> 2) This ish me first 1D fic sooo feedback ish appreciated.  
> 3) I'm kinda worried this is shit boring sooo PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!  
> 4) This work is inspired by Lana del Rey's Born to Die album (+ other songs) and this chapter is inspired by the song Body Electric. Hence the title. Check it out if you havent.  
> 5) You really don't know how much comments mean to me. They'll definitely help motivate me to continue this cause atm I'm not really sure if I should or not ^^;  
> 6) I've looked this over a few times but if they're still some grammar errors then... well I'm only human ^^;  
> 7) CHECK OUT MY RENDITION OF BODY ELECTRIC BY LANA DEL REY!!! Some of my adlibs directly correspond to lines in this story... and it sets the mood for the "prologue bit" quite well
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bIhPPaVtvY&feature=c4-overview&list=UUq4Nd3sGDdp2g4jTcJKcmQw
> 
> I may have been VERY lightly inspired by the fics Privilege and Class Conflict for parts of their persona's so CHECK THOSE OUT IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM! THEY'RE AMAZING!
> 
> -Archie.

* * *

**Chapter One: Body Electric**

Check out me "Body Electric": Sets the tone for this first bit mighty well if I say so meself

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bIhPPaVtvY&feature=c4-overview&list=UUq4Nd3sGDdp2g4jTcJKcmQw

* * *

_Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

            The large wooden doors of the town church creaked open loudly and the veiled figure in the entryway stiffened – looking quickly round her surroundings – head whipping back and forth, making sure no one had heard the sound, before slipping inside.

_Jingle._

The string of beads wrapped securely around her arms brushed against one another as she ran down the aisle -- stumbling over her cloak every few steps -- but never stopping -- not until she reached the foot of the altar.

_Crack._

            Rosary beads fell to the ground with a loud, echoing clap, the sound bouncing off the high church ceiling and tall gothic styled walls. Her small body hunched tensely over the church altar steps rubbing the beads together and muttering to herself while the rosaries rolled on their string -- down the few long stairs past her freezing ankles and onto the worn red carpet below. Her hands were clasped tightly together  and they shook -- knuckles white -- a thin mist escaping from under her dark crimson veil, her breath leaving her rigid form in quick uneven puffs. The cold dug into her bones but she ignored the feeling. Ignored the bite in her shoulders, the pain in her raw knees from shifting against the hard almost jagged stone.

            She lifted her head and a few wisps of wavy honey colored hair shone in the faint moonlight. The crimson veil fell to the ground and a young teary eyed girl came into view. She looked skyward and jingled the beads against each other again. Another loud clap sounded in the room as they reconnected with the cold hard ground. Her teeth were clenched tightly – grinding together -- and you could almost taste her pain on her, like it was a physical, tangible thing. _Heaven is my baby._ She repeated that phrase over and over again, ruby lips pulled taut against her glistening teeth, sweat beading against her flesh despite the cold. Each word came out like a whispered curse, full of spite, spit, and regret. She bit her lip. She saw red. Everything was red.

Red for blood. Red for the virgin. Red for innocence lost.

_Dear Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

Her body shook more and hot salty tears ran down her face, smearing the make-up she’d worn and making it run black down her cheeks like a tarred mark of irreversible sin.

_Dear Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

It had begun to snow while she wept and begged, scratching at her arms with blunt nails and yanking at her perfect hair until blood began to pool around her.

_Dear Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

He’d loved snow. He’d loved winter, he was a child of the cold and now it had come to claim him once more.

_Suicides his father._

_Dear Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

_Save him lord for her has done no wrong._

**-Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

Perrie walked quickly, footsteps crunching in the snow that graced the small town with its presence, the soft white tufts erasing the cold and foreboding nature in a matter of hours. It packed itself to the ground, turning dark cobalt stones a muted gray against its eager touch and elegant lampposts stood tall and welcoming in the crisp winter air. It was picturesque. A scene you’d expect to find in one of those souvenir snow-globes. Perfect and full of cheer. All was silent. All was calm. Warm orange light lit the sidewalk and cars dotted the street with their hulking figures, ranging from sleek and classy to roomy and economical. Her body was tense with purpose and her blood pounded in her veins, echoing loudly in her ears.

It was so quiet, the snow muting all other sound but the constant crunch of snow beneath her feet and the platinum blonde kept finding herself turning at every little sound that pierced the still night air. The hoot of an owl. The snap of a twig. Everything. Anything. Call her paranoid but she knew the danger she was in – she knew was being followed. There was no way they’d just let her leave with the dying boy in her arms. She bit her lip and quickly darted down an alley moving towards the church as quickly as possible, knowing Eleanor would be waiting for her inside. She was her only hope.

“Just a little longer,” she whispered to the bundle in her arms, kissing the top of his head softly and hugging him a little tighter, taking solace in the faint but still steady beat of his heart against her chest. The boy whimpered and clutched the hair on the nape of her neck stiffly, but said nothing more. Perrie rubbed his back soothing and felt a warm slickness stain her pale fingers. Her jaw tensed. Already the blood had begun to seep through the bandages that she’d dressed him with mere minutes before.

She picked up her pace and skidded on the ice, teetering precariously for a few moments before regaining her balance and full on running down the street, she could just make out the top spire of her hulking destination. Her heart soared and not even the horrible biting cold in her lungs could deter her now.

“Almost there,” she said, letting just a little glimmer of hope brighten her voice, “almost the — AH!”

There was a loud bang in the distance and suddenly all she could feel was a horrible incessant agony ripping through her shoulder. She screamed, tears yanking themselves from her eyes and she stumbled forward, twisting at the last second to take the full impact on her back. She shrieked as she landed, the noise wrenching itself from her throat, the fall burying the stake even deeper into her shoulder. It ripped through nerves and muscle, shattering bone and splitting the skin on the other side. Her back arched and the chords of her neck tensed  as she struggled to breathe through her nose, moaning in agony as the flames of pain traveled up her spine and out, tingling every last follicle on her body.   

_Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

For a moment her vision swam and she thought she was going to faint but then she heard the crying that wasn’t her own, felt tears that fell from another’s eyes, felt small hands shaking her gently, heard a wheezing wet cough and forced her mind through the haze. _Zayn._

“—errie! Perrie?!” the boy’s shrill juvenile voice finally reached her ears and she blinked quickly, blue gray eyes meeting pleading scared gold.

“Zayn…,” she murmured, still slightly dazed and Zayn bit his lip, his brow now furrowed with worry; his tan skin a good few shades lighter than normal. Footsteps sounded behind them and Perrie struggled to her feet, holding in a pained gasp as the simple movement jostled her wounded arm. It hung limply by her side and she pushed Zayn behind her. Blood dripped down her back, turning cold and making her cloak cling to her skin.

“Perrie you gotta get that stake out so you can heal or -- ”

“I know Zayn,” she gasped, “run, you can see the church can’t you, Eleanor’s inside,” she staggered slightly but caught herself from falling, “she’ll save you.” She wheezed out.

Zayn whimpered. “But it hurts…”

“You can do it.”

He looked skeptical for a second, brow furrowed in pain and lip caught between his teeth his expression dubious but eventually he tilted his head slightly, signaling his agreement. Perrie let out a sigh of relief, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about protecting Zayn as well. A staked _Sí_ is almost a dead _Sí_ any day.

The figure could be seen a little more clearly now, running towards them and Perrie clumsily drew the knife that was strapped to her leg. She took a breath and shakily got in a battle stance, bending her knees and spreading her legs. She grimaced, her balance was off with the use of only one arm. She’d only get one shot at this she knew. She didn’t have the energy to do anything else.

“Run.” She commanded, not breaking eye contact with the being steadily approaching her.

Zayn nodded, raven head bobbing quickly and he winced, blood dripping to the ground around him.

“Bye Perrie,” he whispered before turning and stumbling towards the church.

_Lord forgive us please for we have sinned._

**-Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

 

The door to the church creaked open and Eleanor stopped her wailing, whirling around to see Zayn crumple on the ground. She gasped, eyes widening and quickly dropped the rosary, the strings breaking and the beads rolling in every direction.

“Zayn!” she called running back down the aisle and quickly pulling him inside, the door closing by itself once he was removed from its path. “Can you hear me? Are you okay? Where’s Perrie?”

“I’m alive,” he croaked and Eleanor nodded, half dragging half walking Zayn towards the altar.

“Where’s Perrie?” She asked again once they settled him on the altar.

“Fighting.”

            Eleanor’s face scrunched in concern.“Who?”

            Zayn grimaced as another spasm of pain ran up his body. He took a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t know.” He finally answered.

            Eleanor sighed and nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. “She’ll be here soon, Louis came and saved her.”

            Zayn rolled his eyes. “Why’d you ask me if you already knew?” he mumbled petulantly.

            She shrugged. “Clairvoyancy comes and goes,” she said off handedly, “now turn around, let me see your back.”

            He grunted but did as he was bid. Eleanor grabbed the hem of his shirt making to lift it but then thought better of it, instead taking out a knife and cutting it open. Zayn shivered as the cold air hit his back and Eleanor began to slowly unravel the bandages.

            “Oh my god,” she muttered.

            Zayn tensed. “Is it bad?”

            Eleanor looked at the back of his head and she took a quiet breath, plastering on a fake smile that he couldn’t see. “No. It’s not.” She lied.

            “You’re lying, but thanks for trying.”

            She sighed. “What happened?” she whispered.

            “They’re dead.”

            “What?”

            “My mom, dad, Doniya, Waliyha and Safa,” He murmured. “They killed them.” His breath hitched and he quickly scrubbed his face free of tears.

            “Shh, shh it’s okay,” Eleanor soothed before saying, “Who were they?”

            “ _Dorcha_.”

            “What?” Her brow drew together in confusion. “But why? That makes no sense, you’re family is known for being neutral.”

            “Apparently they didn’t get the memo,” his voice was bitter.

            “Hmmm,” Eleanor rubbed his back lightly some more before pushing gently against his shoulder. “Lay down.” Zayn complied and Eleanor learned over his back taking a better look at it.

            “What did this?” She asked touching the enflamed skin gingerly with her fingers.

            He shrugged and winced as the movement pulled against the torn skin. “A knife maybe? I don’t know, something hand held though.”

            “Awfully jagged for a knife… maybe a hooked cutlass?”

            “Maybe.”

            “Hmmm…,” she prodded the wound a few more times before looking up. “How long ago did you get this?”

            “Uhm… like fifteen minutes ago? Why?”

            _And it’s still bleeding?_ It was literally freezing and not an inch of it had started to congeal. _Poison then? A curse perhaps? What type?_

            She cleared her throat. “Zayn, I’m going to cauterize the wound okay? You’re going to bleed out at this rate.”

            The young boy tensed but nodded all the same. “Okay. Just tell me when okay?” the end came out barely over a whisper.

            Eleanor grabbed his hand. “Okay.” She breathed in and closed her eyes anchoring herself to this plane as her spirit moved to the Realm of Ancients. She reached into the abyss of knowledge, words and markings and symbols whirling all around her and she began to speak, commanding them, weaving them, forcing them to slow in front of her until she could grab them, yanking them from that other plane and back to herself. Back to her anchor. _Tosaigh_ _._ Fire.

 It sparked and glowed in her hand. She held onto that string with all her will tying it to herself before opening her eyes.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” he said in a small voice.

“On the count of three okay?”

“Okay.”

“One.”

Zayn tensed.

“Two -- ” She thrust her hand down and Zayn screamed, clenching her free hand in a vice grip as the fire burned; steadily closing the wounds on his skin. He whimpered and wailed and squirmed away from the feeling and it took everything in her to keep him still enough to finish but eventually she did and she cut the tie. The flame went out and Zayn lay a weeping mess on the floor.

The church door opened again.“El!” Came a weak yell.

She turned and a staggering Perrie stumbled through the doors.

Eleanor’s eyes widened at the sight of her friend. “Oh my god!” She quickly ran back down the aisle, propping her up and taking in her battered exterior. “What the hell happened to you?”

“ _Dorcha_.”

“But you’re a _Dorcha_ …?” Eleanor phrased it as a question obviously confused as to why they would target one of their own.

“Mmm yeah, well I was protecting Zaynie so,” She muttered, clearly not in the talking mood, the pain and blood loss making her more snappish than usual. “Stake to the shoulder, punch to the eye, cut to the leg and a broken fucking wrist.”

Eleanor paused when they reached Zayn’s unmoving body turning to face Perrie fully. “Let me have a look at you -- ”

Perrie cut her off. “How’s Zayn.”

“Well I stopped the bleeding but -- ”

“But what?”

“I think he’s cursed or at the very least poisoned.”

“Fuck.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well do something about it.”

“I stopped the bleeding.”

Perrie spit blood on the altar. “Something more then. Break it! Cure him! I don’t care how just do it.”

Eleanor looked down at her feet. “I- I don’t know how to though… my training never went that far.”

“Fuck and Louis isn’t Sensitive like you are either.” Perrie sighed.

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

A deep  commanding voice spoke behind them. “Well I happen too, but it will cost you.”

The two girls jumped, Perrie weakly going for her knife before sighing in relief and surprise. “Reverend Cowell.”

 

**-Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

 

Zayn was floating, long since numb to the pain in his back. He couldn’t tell where he was or what he was doing for the life of him. He was just… floating. Just barely existing. Maybe.

 _Am I dead?_ He wondered as he floated, eyes closed, in this strange purgatory. His muscles didn’t respond to his thoughts but he couldn’t find it in himself to really care either. He was fine floating like this. At least he thought so. _So tired…_ He just wanted to drift away, get lifted from the turmoil of this world. He thought he could hear his sisters calling to him, hear the warm laughter of his family, so close. It would be so easy to just slip way, to join them and be happy again…

Something grabbed him and the laughter stopped. It was no longer nothing. No. He could feel and he was being pulled, yanked, stretched away from the Light, away from his family and into the darkness. _No!_ He wanted to scream, but his senses were slow to return to him, his body sluggish to respond and the ropes just grew in number, in strength, in speed until he was hurtling away, spiraling down, down, down down –

Away from the light.

Into the black.

The darkness.

And into fiery pain.

**….**

The first thing Zayn noticed when he woke up was the sound of crying. It was muffled, foggy, like he was underwater but definitely there. The next thing was pain radiating all throughout his body. He groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

“Welcome back Mr. Malik,” a gray haired man donned in priestly robes said to him.

Zayn stared blankly at the man. “Reverend Cowell?” He murmured weakly.

“Indeed.”

Zayn made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat before looking past him, trying to find the source of the crying.

“Perrie.” He mumbled. He tried to move his arms but they were too weak, it felt like his nerves were disconnected from his brain. “Where’s Eleanor?” Perrie didn’t respond, only cried harder and turned away from the dazed boy. Zayn looked back at the reverend.

He offered a small sad half smile. “Why, she’s dead.”

That was twelve years ago.

 

**-Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

 

_Twelve Years Later_

Niall groaned, his dyed blonde hair flopping in his eyes as he plopped gracelessly down next to his flatmate and best friend Liam -- Payne -- at the kitchen table. His ass stung on contact.

“Ow,” he hissed, “feckin’ hell.”

Right. He’d forgotten how stiff these damn chairs were. They really needed to invest in some more comfortable ones. Right.

            You know, the moment they actually had some cash to spare.

            Ah. The hellish life of a Uni student.

            Niall groaned again. Add that to the list of things gone wrong. _Broke as a… a… feckin’ broke… thing. Dammit._ He couldn’t even come up with a proper, what? Metaphor? Simile? Whatever it was. He didn’t care, he wasn’t an English major. _But you are taking a feckin’ English class you idiot_ his brain so helpfully supplied. _Feck you logic_ Niall grimaced, if it weren’t for the fact that Liam ahem Payne would no doubt ask him what the fuck his problem was if he randomly gave the bird to thin air, he’d definitely do it.

            But no, Niall wasn’t _that_ strung out yet.

_Yet._

He was still pretty strung out all the same though.

He groaned.

To say that his day had been absolute shit would be the understatement of the century. No. _Millennium._ Yeah, that had a much better ring to it. Made him feel less petty.

(No doubt he was though despite what he’d outwardly tell himself)

            Liam Payne (you could never just call him Liam he’d make your life hell if you did) raised an eyebrow and nudged his books aside to give his friend more room while he star-fished on the table, arms spread out and sighing dramatically. Liam rolled his eyes and looked up from his studying knowing Niall wouldn’t stop until he’d asked him what was wrong.

            He closed his book dramatic clap and rubbed the bridge of his nose between two well manicured fingers before releasing a sigh of his own. _He really ought’a be an actor, the lads got the whole damn pause for dramatic effect shtick down pat._ Niall thought to himself.

“What the _fuck_ is your problem.” It wasn’t a question. Liam Payne did _not_ ask _questions_. He _commanded_ and expected to be _obeyed_. Or your life would be made a living hell. Niall grinned at the familiarity of it. Ah, classic Payne. That was the closest thing you’d ever get to a _what’s wrong_ or _Are you okay?_ Kindness wasn’t in his vocabulary. Lying even less so. It made him a bit of a douche at times, but in the end his bluntness was more often than not warranted to some degree and the blonde loved him for it.

            At least in Niall’s case.

            Honestly, Niall reckoned that was probably the only reason they worked so well. Niall could see the lonely _boy_ behind the pompous posh ass hole that was Liam Payne and Liam was the only one who could actually get Niall to slow down for more than five seconds to actually truly _be in_ a moment. They were flawed the two of them and they knew it, but it didn’t really matter because in their own way they fixed each other.

            “Tough day,” he muttered his Irish lilt shining through and smiled brightly up at Liam.

            Liam crossed his arms. “Tough luck.” Yes. So _much_ sympathy, Liam’s specialty.

            “You don’t understand,” he muttered looking at his friend with pleading blue eyes. _Begging_ to be understood.

            “No. No I don’t, so why don’t you -- ” Liam waved his hand noncommittally through the air, “oh I don’t know, _enlighten_ me, with all the _horrendously_ boring details.”

            Niall rolled his eyes. “With pleasure your royal bitchiness.” He said sarcastically.

            Liam waved the insult aside. “Mm, just get on with the show, yeah.” Not a question. See? Payne’s didn’t ask. They received.

            “Well,” Niall took a breath, “ya see me matey -- ”

            “—Don’t call me _‘matey’,_ it’s nowhere near… _sophisticated_ enough.”

            “Ya mean posh?” Niall sighed. “Well ya see _Payne_ ,” he inflected Liam’s name more than necessary but Liam only grunted in response. “it all started dis mornin’ ya know when I went to get me coffee at that lil’ corner shoppy thing, eh,” he waved his hands in front of him, “ya know the one?”

Liam nodded.“Mmm, Morning Glory or something. I get my tea there every day at seven.”

“Yeah, that one,” Niall clapped his hands together, “anyway so I get to the cashier, right, and ya know what they tell me?” He looked at his friend waiting for him to ask.

Liam rolled his eyes, indulging him. “What.”

“They say they’re all out of me frappe, ya know that strawberry crème one I like?”

Liam shook his head all mock offense. “Oh, utter blasphemy.” He said drily.

Niall made a face. “You wouldn’t be saying that if it was yer bloody shit tea ya drink.”

Liam makes a noise of agreement and shrugs his shoulders not bothering to deny the accusation. “Go on.”

The Irish lad sighed. “Well then I say ‘ _Oh well then how ‘bout the vanilla frappe’_ though in me head I’m thinkin’ _‘What the bloody fuck! It’s eight ‘n da feckin’ mornin’ and they’re out?!’_ Makes a lick of sense to me. Never been popular before, but anyway they say okay and whip it right up nice ‘n fast yeah and that’s when I figure out, _‘Oh, I forgot me wallet’_. Ya know all that fake Irish ‘ _I’m so jolly, nothin’ gets me down shit’_ when I’m fumin’ inside. So then I gotta run all the way back to the flat yeah, and run back to da feckin’ shop, ‘n by now it’s eight thirty and I have thirty minutes to get to me class, which hey, tis doable but _no,_ today’s the day all public transport decides to be shit so I miss me first class o’ the day.” The blonde lets out a breath at the end.

“Well honestly _Niall,_ that doesn’t sound all _that_ bad, you’re being over dramatic, your record is next to spotless you know,” Liam says in that somewhat patronizing way he has and Niall swears if he had a cup of tea he’d be sipping it. The blonde sighs.

“But it only got worse from there,” He groaned, “Da teacher of the class I missed decided to be pissy when she saw me in da halls, n’ I slipped down a flight of stairs cause the bloody caution sign had been moved to the side and after that I got a pop quiz in me theory class n’ then had da pleasure of gettin’ assigned three feckin’ essays and a song for next Monday, so I’m right stressed I am.”

Liam hummed in response, thinking to himself and drumming his fingers on the table while Niall stared at him. Waiting.

The brunette rubbed his temples and puffed out a resigned sounding sigh, brushing his hair out of his eyes and taking out his phone. “I’ll call Harry then. Be ready in an hour.”

Niall grinned. “’N this is why I love ya Paynie.”

Liam grunted in response as he fiddled with his phone and brought it to his ear. “Don’t make me change my mind,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, yeah your highness,” Niall said getting up and planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

Liam sighed, he does that a lot around Niall it seemed, “please refrain from doing that.” He told the blonde lad ruffling his hair affectionately all the same though.

“Aye aye cap’n,” Niall said rushing past, “Time ta get pissed drunk!”

 

**-Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

 

            Niall was brimming with excitement, he honestly hadn’t been out on a Friday night in ages, so when they approached the club in Liam’s audi the blonde was positively beaming. So much so in fact that Liam had to look away in order to resist the urge to hurl and turn his car around right that second. All the same though he shivered, paling just slightly and face scrunching up in a grimace. Niall loved these kinds of places with their aura of reckless abandon and chaos, they were a manifestation of everything that was _Niall_ , but Liam hated them. He hated the sweat. The smell of sex, the crappy perfumes, all of it. All they symbolized for him were cheap booze, hangovers, and even cheaper girls trying to get in his pants. Honestly it may have been somewhat flattering but after the first hour it would only get old and holding false love for the masses was quite a tiring ordeal.

            Liam parked the car and Niall jumped out, Liam taking a moment before following. The duo probably made a strange sight, Liam with his slicked back hair and blazer and Niall in skinny jeans and a tight fitting v-neck. The two were finally waved in and Niall began pushing through the crowd eyes frantically searching for another person who said they’d be here as well, Liam close behind, already wishing he hadn’t agreed to this, but sadly it was his idea and there was no backing out now.

            Liam sighed wishing for nothing more than to curl up in his bed and study with a warm cup of earl gray in his hand with two cubes of sugar and an three ounces of milk. Ah bliss.

“Dudes! Over here!” Liam and Niall turned at the voice. _Harry_.

Harry pushed his way over green eyes bright and maybe slightly glazed from the few drinks he’d had while he was waiting, his usually curly hair already beginning to stick to his scalp from sweat.

“What took you so long huh?” Harry shouted when he reached them, the sound of the music and crowd making it hard to hear anything else.

Niall grinned up at the tall lanky lad. Harry was from the states and his American accent stuck out like a sore thumb. They had met in a shared theory class the year before and hit it off quickly becoming friends with their somewhat similar (and by somewhat  one means totally) personalities.

“Sorry mate, this bloke ‘ere,” Niall poked Liam in the side, “took ‘bout an extra half hour figurin’ out what feckin’ blazer to wear.”

Liam only rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest looking decidedly unpleased. “ _Please_ tell me you at _least_ got us a booth Styles.” The undertone of _can’t you do **anything** right_ bleeding through his words. “I can feel the working class _dripping_ on me.”

Harry laughed and slapped him on the back, ignoring Payne’s disgusted face. “’Course I did Payne. I know how much you,” he made finger quotes, “ _hate the masses_.”

Liam glared but gestured for the taller man to lead the way.

 

The three sat down at the booth and Liam nods in approval at its position. It’s in the back, private and just a little quieter than the rest of the club. The night just may be bearable after all.

Harry leaned back in the plush seats. “So what prompted this outing huh? I know you hate clubbin’ Payne.”

Liam made a noise in the back of his throat and wet his lips before stating simply, “Niall had a bad day.”

Harry blinked before grinning and looking up at the ceiling. “That right Nialler?”

“Yeah,  ya see it all started this mornin’-- ”

Liam made a face. “You just _had_ to ask didn’t you.”

The curly haired boy moved to speak but just then was cut off by a waiter who (thankfully in Liam’s opinion) came to take their order.

“Good evening sirs, what’ll it be tonight?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Liam quickly cut him off flashing his platinum credit card and handing it to the waiter. “Shots. Tequilla. A _lot_ of them. And keep them coming,” he said curtly, “ _Lord knows I’ll need them.”_ He mumbled, running a hand down his face.

The waiter blinked a few times before gingerly accepting the card, obviously never having to deal with Liam Payne before. “O-Of course sir.”

Liam raised a brow. “Well then?”

“What?” The waiter asked, looking confused.

Liam waved his hands. Niall grinned. Harry shook with silent laughter, it was sad but honestly one of the most entertaining things in the world would be to see some poor sap caught under the ire of Liam Payne. “Shoo. Run along now. Make yourself _useful_ and get us our order.”

“R-right.” He scurried off and Liam sighed, “imbecile.”

            Harry laughed aloud.

 

            Liam sighed and tossed back another shot, this one having a distinct strawberry taste. “You would’ve liked this one Nialler,” he slurred, “It’s all fruity and tastes like sunshine and butterflies.”

            Niall laughed, cheeks rosy. “What does that even mean? Feckin’ lightweight,” the blonde said affectionately. “Yer drunk mate.”

            “’M not.” Whether that was to being a lightweight or drunk Niall couldn’t be sure.

            “Yeah you are dude.” Harry nudged Niall in the side with a cheeky grin and pointed at Liam. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

            “Uhm,” Liam squinted at the digits. “Stop movin’ your hand, I can’t see.” He whined.

            Harry grinned, white teeth flashing in the strobe lights over head. “I ain’t movin’ squat man.”

            Niall howled, backing another shot himself and pinched his lips together as it burned its way down. Eyes watering just slightly. “Oh me god, yer _soo_ drunk.”

            Liam pouted. “Am not.”

            Harry nodded in agreement. “He’s definitely not.”

            Liam turned and smiled at Harry… well smiled in his general direction, his eyes were so glassy it seemed more like he was staring through him then at him. “See this is why I- I _loooove_ you Harry.” Liam started trying to climb over the table and Harry backed away laughing. “Come ‘ere,” he slurred. “Lemmee give you a big big _big_ hug.” He looked confused for a moment. “Mate.”

“You don’t wanna hug me man, I’m all sweaty remember, you hate sweat.” Harry said shaking his head and grinning.

“I don’t care.” Liam pouted. “Whoa,” he muttered as he somehow managed to lose his balance on all fours on a flat surface.

“You’re feckin’ hammered mate,” Niall called behind him.

“I got uh—cooties,” Harry said pushing away a now slobbering Liam who had given up trying to hug him and was now trying to plant a kiss… somewhere. Harry was pretty sure Liam meant his face but his aim was shit so…

Liam made a face. “Fine.” He stood up on the table. “I see how it is.” He proclaimed loudly. “You two,” he pointed down at his two laughing friends feeling betrayed. “You two don’t love me, even though I- I’m paying for this shit.” He huffed. “FINE! I KNOW WHEN I’M NOT BLOODY WANTED!” He hopped off the table and started staggering towards the exit. “I’m gonna fuckin’ smoke.”

Niall sighed and wiped a tear from his eye. “I better stop drinkin’ then, Liam’s too pissed ta drive now.”

Harry hummed in agreement, sobering some now that Liam was gone. “You gonna go check on him?”

“Yeah,” Niall stood up and stressed cracking his neck. “I probably should. Cya’ mate.”

“Cya man,” Harry said giving him a two fingered salute and a grin.

 

Niall found his friend staggering against the wall, trying and failing to light his lighter and missing his mouth entirely with the cigarette. “Well fuuuck you too,” Liam shouted at the objects in his hand and tossing them to the ground with a huff.

“Dear lord,” Niall mumbled walking over and picked up the suddenly offensive objects off the floor. “Oi, matey,” Niall said snapping his fingers in front of Liam’s face. “Come on yeah? Let’s get’cha home ey?”

Liam pouted but nodded pushing himself off the wall and into Niall, who grunted at the sudden weight.

“That man was mean to me,” Liam mumbled as Niall all but dragged him back to his audi.

“Eh? What man?”

“The mean man on the floor, he didn’t help me with my smokes.” He sounded scandalized and hurt but Niall wasn’t focused on that anymore. He quickly got Liam to the car, and searched for the keys, having to bat away Liam’s hands as he searched his pockets, every touch suddenly becoming hilarious.

Niall all but shoved Liam into the car and shut the door behind him before running back to wall he’d found Liam.

“Man? What man?” He mumbled as he looked. He sighed. No one there. _Must be da alcohol_ he mused. He was about to turn around when a groan caught his attention. Niall froze.

“’Ello?” He called. Something moved in the corner and Niall furrowed his brow, taking tentative steps in the direction of the sound. “’Ello?” he called again.

Suddenly a shoe came into view. Then a black leg and jacket, and finally a tanned face, raven hair done up in a now ruined quif. Niall was stunned cause, how the fuck had he almost missed him? Sure he was in black but still. He looked down. Blood was beginning to stain the ground around him

“Well shit.”

            


	2. Young and Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title inspired by Lana Del Rey's Young and Beautiful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHW71g9RVUY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so let me say OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS IN LIKE A DAY!!! 7K WORDS!! DAMN! LOL. But omg legit. I haven't slept in like 24/hours soooo I'm kinda dead. I tried to proof read this some buttt I'm sure they're errors. So I'm sorry bout that. I'm only human! If there's anyone out there who want's to be my beta let me know!!
> 
> AND AGAIN! COMMENTS MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND!!!
> 
> And uhmmmm I wrote smut... Kinda... Working for that Explicit rating. I don't really WRITE smut soooo I'm sorry if it's like the crappiest smut you've ever read in your life. I kinda feel like the first half of this chapter is REALLY dull, but hopefully it's not and you'll enjoy it :x LEMMEE KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! FEEDBACK IS NEEDED TO MAKE THIS BETTER!!! 
> 
> Chap 2 of Closet Gamer is in progress~ Already got teh first bit planned Also for those of u who read both tell me which you'd prefer to be my main focus considering school starts in a week and I won't be able to keep up this hellish like double upload pace.
> 
> -Archie  
> Showers with love.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Young and Beautiful**

****

**How I imagine my baby's in this fic, style wise. So now you can kinda get a visual of 'em. And their couch. Their 8000 dollar couch. Yes It's called a bugatti. And yes it's made of the same interior shit as the car. You'll understand the relevance later :p**

**-Archie**

**Young and Beautiful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHW71g9RVUY Check it out peeps!**

* * *

 

Niall groaned and wondered just whose dreams he’d accidently crushed by associating with Liam Payne to deserve this as he stared at the out of order sign on the side of his flat’s elevator. ‘Cause there was _no_ way in fuck this was his fault. Nope. Nopeity nopeity _nope_. Niall was a good boy. Niall was _so_ good in fact that he’d made a pact with  Buddha and told him to give all of Liam’s shit karma to him so Liam wouldn’t have to deal with it and could reach fucking Nirvana. Yep. Screw the laws of Buddhism. Screw the whole “ _there is no bad karma or good karma_ ” shtick. Screw neutrality. He was fucking _charming_ , _loveable_ , _charismatic,_ had a smile to _die_ for, and a face that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be cute and adorable or hot and sexy. _He could do no wrong_. So no. There was _no_ way this shit was his fault. It didn’t matter that he never stopped talking… or was obnoxiously loud…or  always had energy when everyone else just wanted to sleep--  That was nothing compared to the utter douche-ness that was Liam Payne. That lad _lived_ for the misery of others. He blinked, huh, well that _was_ actually a pretty darn long list now that he thought about it so maybe…

He shook his head.

 _See,_ he was so good he’d actually considered this being his fault.

( _Ya wanna get technical with it, it kinda is_ )

Ha.

( _But no it’s not me fault ‘cause it’s feckin’ karma who gave me a piss poor day, yeah_ )

Lil’ loveable Irish boy Niall?

It was impossible.

“Oi, I get it,” the blonde muttered to himself with a snap of his fingers. It was _obviously_ a hex placed on him by a sea-hag. Uh-huh. Disguised as a… beautiful maiden at his Uni (‘cause everyone knows sea-hags can’t hex ya from across da waters – unless – fuck, did she get a lock of his golden locks?) bent on making him fucking mental and get expelled! Yep! That was it! Why else would he be put in this ridiculous situation _at who gives a shit o’clock_? He glared at the staircase in front of him. His eyes traveled back to where he’d  parked Liam’s Audi, the drunk lad still knocked the fuck out. His eyes were closed and his face was plastered to the window; his lip caught between his nose and glass making him look really _really_ unattractive (remember to take a pic Niall) -- then back to the staircase. Niall rubbed the back of his neck. _Shit._ Had it always been that tall?

            He sighed and made a face.

            Never before had the urge been stronger to _beat_ an _inanimate object_ within an inch of its _inanimate_ life. He froze, stopping his glaring and set his arms at his side. Dear Lord on High, had he been fucking _leering_ at that staircase? Eyes _screaming_ murder?  Me God he had! Bloody hell, the hex was working! He was going completely mental! Niall slapped his face a few times and let out a frustrated breath _. Calm down eh mate?_ It was just the alcohol talking. He was just a little tipsier than he thought yeah. Yeah?

            He breathed in through his nose.

Okay. So he had a problem. So what? Shrug it off. Keep truckin’. Right? Like really it wasn’t _that_ big a deal. Honestly. Seriously. _Really._ (Lies so many damn lies.) He just didn’t want to deal with it at – he looked down at his watch – bloody two a.m. It was _almost_ funny, and the blonde was sure he would be laughing himself if well you know, _he wasn’t the one who had to deal with it._

So yeah. Niall had a problem. A teeny tiny, itty bitty, mini winny (however the fuck you spell that) problem. Nothing big, nothing bad, just… well…

            … he’d left the flat earlier that evening with every intention of getting blitzed off his ass, and okay so that hadn’t exactly happened but that really wasn’t what the issue here was. No. It was the fact that Niall had left the flat with one bloke and come back with two, and where that in other circumstances would be shit awesome, right now it was just a pain, considering… neither of them were quickie material. The fact of the matter now was he had to figure out how in the heck he was supposed to carry the two of them both up four flights of stairs without A) Killing one of them B) One of them killing him C) Breaking his back or D) Making enough noise to make the whole block think it was New Years --

            And yeah, he didn’t really see that _not_ happening anytime soon.

            “Welp, feck this, looks like you lads’ll be sleepin’ in da Audi tonight.” He said while rubbing his hands together and tossing his hair out of his face. He shivered. The cold air was starting to get to him, and he really wasn’t dressed for it. He began to walk up the steps.

He made it up the first flight and shivered again. The blonde bit his lip and glanced back at the Audi, it really was cold. _They’ll be fine_. He waved his worry aside. _They’ve got booze in their system and a hunk of metal ‘round ‘em, perfect yeah._

Niall kept telling himself that, giving himself reasons why it was okay to just leave them in the cold. In the Audi. And let himself be comfortable in a bed. _Because Payne wasn’t supposed to be drunk, Niall was. Because Niall had to drive him back. Because Liam Payne was a total idiot when drunk. Because he was already nice enough to pick the other dude off the street. He didn’t know if he was a maniac. Why let him in his house?_

He got all the way up to the fourth floor. Opened the door to his shared flat, shucked off his shirt, turned on the heat and plopped down with as much finesse as his tired body could muster at two a.m onto his bed. That lasted all of five minutes before the guilt came.

 Then the whispering voices of do good.

Damn his good nature. Damn it to hell.

Niall groaned and turned his head into his pillow kicking his legs out and letting out an irritated noise. “Ah hell,” He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling willing the random shapes pocked on it to force him to sleep. _Elephant._ _Sheep._ _Elephant riding a sheep._ It didn’t work. “Feck.” He gave up, throwing his pillow aside and launching himself off the bed. He pulled on a shirt. Unlocked the door to his flat. Left the heat on and walked back out onto the landing.

Niall sighed, looking back down the daunting amount of steps where he could see the Audi looking no bigger than a model car.

He ran a hand through his now utterly untamed hair and huffed out a breath before beginning the trek back down. “I really am to good fer me own good.”

Liam Payne better be fuckin’ grateful and leave him the fuck alone in the morning, Niall was _not_ going to deal with his fucking hangover, even his kindness had limits.

 

 **-** **Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

            It was four in the morning by the time Niall finally was able to get some sleep and his bed had never looked more inviting. He was utterly exhausted and the blonde was starting to see the reasoning behind Liam Payne’s hate of clubs. There was nothing good about them. Only booze. Music. More booze. Sex. Booze. Booze. More lovely, distracting, mind numbing booze… Horrible right? He nodded to himself. Yep. After tonight he was done. So totally done. He sighed and groaned into his pillow. Somehow – miraculously – he’d managed to get both lads out of the Audi and up to the flat without breaking anyone’s neck, one neighbor (well if you count the man living on the second floor as a neighbor) even being nice enough to help him the rest of the way.

Of course by _“being nice”_ Niall means the man first clocked him upside the head with yesterdays newspaper, before going on a five minute tirade that went something like: “This behavior is utterly unacceptable! Blah blah blah. I have half a mind to write a formal complaint against you two! Blah blah blah. Is that blood? Blah blah blah. It is! Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah blah blah. Disgraceful! Getting into bar fights at your age?! Blah blah blah. What are you eighteen? (Wince right here, Niall was nineteen thank you very much, and he’d told him as much – the man just slapped him in the face again. Rude.)  Blah blah blah. We don’t  need any foolish uni delinquents tarnishing the name of their fine establishment!” Say all this with a really ugly bathrobe, dishelved hair, a disapproving glare, and a pair of askew glasses a-top a graying head and you’d have the general gist of the situation. Course after that the guy had sighed, rubbed his temples, and asked and Niall quotes: “If I help you get these blokes up these stairs n’ out of my way will you shut the fuck up faster?” (apparently Niall may or may not have been spouting his more… colourful language a _tad_ louder than he’d thought. Blame the alcohol. Blame the alcohol) and well, obviously Niall wasn’t one to pass up the good graces of others so he’d said yes and well, that was that. With a smile and a few more mumbled curses every other step or so,  grumbling middle aged man in tow, he’d managed to get both his partners up the last two flights of stairs, into the flat, undressed (awkward), bandaged up (in the case of the mystery man in black. His wounds honestly weren’t as bad as they’d appeared outside the club), and tossed relatively unceremoniously on the couch. Night well spent.

Not.

Niall squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. He really needed to hang out with Harry more, spending so much time with Liam was turning him into a cynic. He made a mental note to schedule some Narry time the following week, they hadn’t done anything just the two of them in awhile. Niall groaned. Whatever. It would have to wait for the morning. In the meantime he’d remain a mildly cynical nineteen year old living with his best friend who was really a dick to everyone but him (but still a dick all the same) and wanted to sleep more than _anything_ in the world but was now too wired up _to_ do so after dragging said flatmate up about three hundred stairs and cursing the existence of out of order elevators.

Fuck, he’d forgotten to take that picture.

It was closer to seven when he finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 

 **-** **Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

            The first thing Liam noticed when he woke up was that he wasn’t in his bed. And that -- of -- course was utterly unacceptable. The sheet was too rough, the pillow was not fluffed precisely how he liked it and something hard was poking into his side in a most unpleasant fashion. The second thing he noticed was the diabolical pounding that plagued his head without even opening his eyes. Was he hungover? Liam grimaced, he was personally not all that familiar with the sensations, but he’d nursed Niall’s enough times to have a general idea, hearing the lads complaints about the sun being too bright or his head feeling like a sledgehammer was pounding through it, or too talk quieter because every other sound seemed to make him wince. Just what did Liam do last night?

The third thing he noticed was the sudden and absolutely horrendous need to release what felt like the entire contents of his stomach onto, what he’d in a few seconds discover, was the living room floor. Which he did. Quite loudly and most ungracefully. _Fuck._ He opened his eyes. He _was_ hungover. It was an unprecedented phenomenon for Liam Payne and he had no desire to be further acquainted with it. He looked down at the mess he’d made and grimaced. He was _not_ cleaning that up. Liam sighed and ran a hand over his face, wincing at the sunlight and glancing at the clock on the wall. 9:30a.m. Wonderful. His eyes drifted over to the kitchen table with the really crap and stiff chairs of theirs and stared longingly at his books still strewn about across it. He sighed and rubbed his nose, he wasn’t going to be getting that lovely lazy Saturday of studying today now he knew.

Liam wrinkled his nose. The fourth thing to catch his attention was his smell. And the smell of his vomit (which he’d been doing well to ignore at all costs). He decided that it just had to go, he was a Payne after all, heir to the virtually untouchable Payne Enterprises and that being said, if he was anything less than at 120%  well… that was a crime of the highest caliber. So he masterfully rolled over the head of the couch (he refused to come in contact with his…mark of shame) wincing even more as he hit the ground and began to crawl towards the bathroom, head down, hands out, the world still a tad more wobbly than he remembered it being about twelve hours ago.

The brunette showered, steamed, soaked (he always ran a bath after his shower) and all around indulged himself in his very precise skin care and stress-relief regiment, his thoughts able to amble as they pleased as he did the automatic tasks. Now Liam hadn’t been sure if having a steaming hot shower followed by a steaming hot bath followed by fifteen minutes of soaking would actually help him any, but he found that by the time he exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his middle, skin and hair still damp close to an hour later, that he did indeed feel quite a bit better than he had before.

Of course that’s when he noticed the fifth thing in the living room. The thing not like the others. The thing that didn’t belong. Another man. The towel dropped to the floor and Liam’s face contorted to one of absolute disdain, hangover completely forgotten.

“Niall!” He called, eyes not leaving the man tarnishing his beautiful, _prized_ , couches with his… his.. street _filth._ “Why the _bloody_ hell is there a stranger sleeping on my _Bugatti_!” Liam Payne tapped his foot impatiently on the hardwood floor, hand on his hip. “Niall!” No response came from the other lads room. He rolled his eyes. “Oh for the love of all things holy and just in the world -- ” Liam flung open his friend’s door and threw open the curtains. “Get the _hell_ up and explain to me _why_ you thought it quite alright to let some – some -- _weirdo_ into our flat and stain my precious sunpan modern bugatti sofa!” He began pacing, hands gesticulating wildly as he ranted. “Do you know how _difficult_ stains are to get out from that! I can’t just use _dish_ detergent and call it a day! _No,_ if I used that… that… peasant _garbage_ well then I would utterly _ruin_ the leather! It’s been specially cured, you know, for perfection! _PERFECTION_ I tell you! And you’d risk ruining that perfection by having me use house hold cleaners! Let me tell you what would happen if I did hmm! _Discoloration! Cracking! Breaking! Blistering!_ My goodness it’s _utter_ blasphemy!” He paused his tirade and yanked the sheets off Niall’s back. “Are you even listening!”

Niall groaned and curled in on himself. Liam sighed and shook his friend’s shoulder, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Niall,” he prodded more gently this time, letting out a breath. “Niall, wake up.” Liam flicked his nose.

“Mmm, what Li—am.. Liam?” the blonde mumbled, slapping his hand away, mouth scrunched and eyes squeezed shut, his body tensing as he stretched.

“There is a man on my sofa and I want to know why.”

“Wha--?” His expression warped to one of confusion before realization dawned. “Oh, the bleedin’ fellow.” He slurred.

“Bleeding? Oh god did you get _blood_ on my bugatti!”

“No!” Niall sighed and opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight and sat up in his bed. “No, I dealt with ‘im in da foyer after I gotcha in the flat.”

Liam raised a brow. “… Dealt… with him?”

Niall groaned and knocked his head against the headboard, blonde hair sticking up randomly in every direction. “Ya knew what I meant lad.”

“Don’t call me lad. I already let you get away with Liam,” Liam said offhandendly.

“Ya knew what I meant Payne. The bloke was bleedin’ on da street so I brought ‘im here.”

“And you didn’t call 999 or drop him off at a hospital or I don’t know left him where you found him because?”

“Ehhh, I be a good person?” Niall scratched the top of his head.

Liam sighed. “You didn’t think of that did you?”

“Why are ya naked?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“What time is it?”

“Eleven o’clock. Now answer the question.”

Niall puffed out his cheeks before slapping them between his hands and letting out a puff of air. “Well… ya see, I could probably come up with a half way decent excuse fer that but eh I’m still tired as feck yeah sooo,” He paused.  “No. No I didn’t. I was too busy dealin’ with yer feckin’ drunk arse.”

Liam winced but nodded. “I can admit to having that much responsibility.”

“Want a feckin’ medal?” The blonde deadpanned.

“Snarky, you’ve been hanging out with me too much haven’t you.”

Niall made a face and threw a pillow at the other lad. “Shut up ‘n put on some clothes.”

“You make me feel so special Niall,” Liam drawled out sarcastically before making his exit. “Oh by the way -- ” He stopped and looked over his shoulder

“What?”

“I threw up.”

“Congrats yer human after all.”

Liam glared. “Clean it up.”

Niall shook his head and crossed his arms. At the angle the sun was hitting him, the bags under his pale eyes stood out even more. “No. I’m goin’ back ta sleep. I’m not dealin’ with yer feckin’ hangover shit.”

Liam just looked at him blankly for a moment before turning to go into his room. “Yes you are.”

Niall blinked before groaning and falling back on his bed. “Bloody bastard.” He mumbled. “I’m not dealin’ with this.” He reached for his phone.

 

 **-** **Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

 

            The room was filled with the smell of weed and sweat. A radio was playing on low in the background, set to some oldies station, the sound of the Bee Jee’s breaking through the monotonous drone of everyday life in London. Car horns blared through the open window and a still stiff breeze followed, the lingering scent of smog just barely detectable. Sunlight spilled in yellow through bleached curtains and various instant ramen and take away boxes could be seen littering the floor. The place was honestly a wreck. Really the only neat area in the flat was in the corner farthest from everything else where a music stand and a Yamaha keyboard stood, a pencil and some loose music sheets resting on top of them.

            Harry brought the joint to his lips. Breathe in. Hold. Hold. Hold. Release. He passed it to the boy beneath him bracketed between his arms.

            The other lad took it from him, looking round the room while he took a drag from the blunt as well, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before letting go in Harry’s face. The taller boy grinned. “Shot gunnin’ huh?” He leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on the other boys lips. “Nice one Josh.”

Josh snorted handing the joint back to Harry. “This place is a fuckin’ sty mate.” He commented, leaning up to nibble at the curly haired teen’s neck.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed in agreement. “Just a place to crash n’ burn man.”

A bite on his neck. “And fuck?”

Harry ran a hand down Josh’s exposed chest tweaking a nipple on the way down. “Ya know it,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “You gave me the idea. One last hit. Wanna shotgun it for real babe?”

Josh leaned back and bit his lip nodding while dragging his nails against Harry’s spine, raising goosebumps in their wake. Harry let out a breathy moan and shivered.

Josh smirked. “Hell yeah.”

 Harry brought the joint to his lips taking one last hit from it before snuffing it out on the windowsill. He tossed it into the abyss of crap that plagued his room and fastened his lips to the brunette’s below him.

Kiss. Tongue. Smoke. Breath. Breath. Breath. Hold. Tongue. Exhale.

“Shit.”

“Ya got that right mate.”

The two men dove back into each other – suddenly urgent -- hands fisting in each other’s hair, tugging, pulling, yanking, moaning as their tongue danced in a feverish battle for dominance. Their lips moved in sync, little gasps and groans finding their way out into the still air, teeth gnashing and nipping, tasting everything they could.

Josh pulled away, sweat starting to gather on his brow, gasping for breath -- lips kiss swollen. “Fuck mate.”

Harry grinned and latched onto Josh’s neck, biting and nipping, sucking and licking, soothing and inflaming, branding him with his mouth.

            Harry licked a stripe up to Josh’s ear. “Gonna fuck ya so hard,” he bit on the earlobe, “ _mate.”_

            Josh trembled, and if that wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d heard all evening—He moaned.“Oh _God_.”

            Harry smirked kissing him lightly on the lips and then all Josh could feel were hands, his big, _big_ really _skilled_ hands, running up and down his sides, fingers so long so flexible and adept, stroking and pinching and prodding all the right places, his lips and his tongue and his teeth and his breath, ghosting and cooling and teasing and and –

            He groaned and fisted his hands in Harry’s hair, his neck chorded and open for the onslaught that was Harry Styles.

            “Like that?” Harry asked, voice low and raspy.

            Josh bit his lip and nodded. “Fuck, yeah I --,” He groaned and gasped, as he felt a hand on the inside of his leg. “I--,” He stuttered and Harry chuckled lapping at one of his nipples.

            “You what?” He asked before biting down gently and sucking.

            “I – ne—feels, ah!”

            “Yeah?”

            Harry began teasing the other nipple and massaging the skin of his inner thigh.

Josh’s chest was flushed, red tinging his collarbone and cheeks.“Uh?” Real eloquent.

“Uh?” Harry repeated, kissing a trail down, and running both of his hands up Josh’s thighs, running dangerously close, teasingly stopping right before he’d be touched and he bucked his hips forward. Harry grabbed him by the hips and pinned him down.

“Shit!”

Harry smirked, kissing the v of his hips. “Nuh-uh, patience babe.” Josh whimpered. Full on _whimpered_.

“Please!”

Harry smirked against his chest, licking in his navel and nipping at the flesh right above before giving Josh’s hips a squeeze. “Please what?”

Josh ran his hands through Harry’s hair, clutching at the curly strands, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know,” he gasped out. His body was on fire. His thoughts were muddled, he was hard as a fucking rock, and it felt like every part of his body was shaking. “Anything. Nothing. No. _Please_ not nothing, give me _something._ _Anything._ Please, please, please, _please._ ” He begged.

Harry hummed against his chest, the feeling traveling down to his throat and vibrating against his groin. Josh gasped.

“Well since you asked so nicely…,” He popped the button on Josh’s pants and pulled them down -- boxers and all -- in one go.

Josh sighed in relief as his cock sprung free, shivering as the cold air hit it. Harry thrust three fingers in his face. “Suck.” He commanded.

And Josh did.

“Such a good lil’ boy huh? Gaggin for it you little slut aren’t ya?” Harry leered down at the other boy, patting his cheek gently and Josh moaned, dick twitching at the words.

Harry took out his fingers. “Spread your legs.” Josh spread them and Harry grabbed a pillow from the headboard propping Josh’s ass up. Harry grinned and whistled. “Nice man.”

Josh glared weakly, able to pull himself out of his haze enough to say. “Shut the fuck up ma--.”

Harry’s phone rang.

The two of them froze. The phone was only an arms reach away. Harry grabbed it. From Niall.

Josh’s eyes widened, cock deflating slightly. “What are you doing?”

Harry flipped it open and set it on Josh’s chest, his now free hand stroking Josh back to full hardness. “Call from Nialler, we were partyin’ pretty hard last night so I can’t just blow him off, could be in some deep shit. Now be a good lil’ boy and be quite yeah? I can multitask. How bout you?”

“You wouldn’t.”

Harry smirked, running a finger around his entrance before hitting accept, setting it to speaker. “I would.” He pushed his finger inside. Tight. Josh gasped.

“-arry? Harry!” Niall’s voice came in slightly muffled.

Harry kept his stroking, prodding the other boys inside, and steadily jacking him off slowly. He released him for a moment and licked a strip on his hand before wrapping his hand around Josh again.

“Mmm, yeah?” Harry replied.

Niall breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god ya’ picked up. Look I have a _big_ favor ta ask ya.”

Harry started to feel Josh relax around him so he pushed in another finger. Harry watched Josh’s face as he shook, lip caught between his teeth, with the effort not to make a sound.

“Yeah? What is it?” Harry still went agonizing slow. Thrusting his fingers in and out in and out, letting Josh get accustomed to the feeling, when Josh nodded he started wiggling them a little more, moving them in a circular motion and making small scissoring motions, looking for _that_ spot inside of him.

Niall took a breath and puffed it out, the sound coming out like static through the phone. “Well Liam’s got a wee bit of a hangover, even though he say he don’t and is bein’ a right lil’ prick.”

Harry snorted. “Isn’t he always?” Harry added the third finger. Josh gasped and quickly covered his mouth. Harry let go of his dick and grinned.

“Shut up. More so than normal ‘kay? And I can’t stand it! I got like a lick of sleep last night and at the mo’ I just can’t stand ‘im ‘n ‘e keeps pesterin’ me. I think I might feckin’ punch ‘im if ya don’t come ‘n save meh.” Niall sounded really distraught. Harry sighed.

“Well…,” He curled his fingers inside of Josh. He full on moaned, behind his hand, his legs shaking like a leaf. Harry grinned. Eureka.

“… What was that?” Harry could just see Niall’s confused expression and tried not to laugh.

“Nothin’,” He curled his fingers again, massaging that spot, and Josh’s face turned red with the effort to not let out a peep. Harry frowned and thrust his fingers into it.

“FUCK!” Josh yelled burying his head into Harry’s sheets, hands still clasped over his mouth, body shaking almost uncontrollably.

“Wait… wa- was that… Josh?”

Harry laughed. “Yep.”

“O-oh god, yer havin’ sex aren’cha.”  
            Harry thrust his fingers again. “Yep, say ‘hi’ Josh, cat’s out the bag now.”

Josh begrudgingly removed his hands from his mouth, face red now for a completely different reason. “H-hey Niall…,” God did he sound wrecked. Harry’s dick twitched in his jeans. “Welp, gotta go Nialler, Josh’s gaggin’ for it—.”

“Tmi mate—.”

“I’ll come on over when I’m done soooo be over in like an hour? ‘Kay? Cya. Bye.” Harry clicked in call.

Josh glared and tossed his phone at Harry’s chest. “Bastard.”

“You love me.”

“I love your cock.”

“Same thing. What’cha say we finish this then?”

Josh grinned and pulled Harry down for a kiss. “I say, fuck yeah.”

 

 **-** **Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

 

            _Pain. But he felt like he was used to it. It felt like Pain was a concept he was very familiar with. A scream. Was it his? It could’ve been, All people sound the same when they scream. Pain is one of the universal languages of the world. Like smiling and laughter and joy. An image flashed through his mind. A pretty woman with platinum blonde hair. A girlfriend? A friend? A sister? He could feel an attachment to her but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Shouts not in pain but in warning, then he was falling. Falling. Falling. A scarred face reaching out for him. He missed. Then black and a young face. A boy weaved in gold. Eyes blue and clear, face etched with worry in a look that didn’t fit him at all. Was he an angel? He certainly looked like he could be. That’s the last thing he remembered._

_Before everything went black._

**-** **Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

Harry got to the flat exactly one hour later smelling distinctly of weed. Niall scrunched his nose. “Didn’t even shower did ya?”

            He grinned and grabbed the shorter lad, pulling him in for a hug and kissing his cheek. “Nope.”

            “Gross.”

            “You love me.”

            Niall smirked and patted him on the back. “Yer on Liam duty while I run to get Liam’s Earl Gray from the coffee shop down da street.”

            Harry pouted. “Already? No offer of a free shower and clothes washing? No food? Where’s that Irish hospitality huh?”

            Niall laughed. “Liam’s English.”

            “’Nuff said.”

            Niall walked out the door. “You’ll find ‘im in the kitchen, he’s still tryin’ to get some studyin’ done and when I get back I’ll be doin’ the same. Got three essay’s to write.” He paused at the doorway. “Since yer here ya can help me with me song yeah?”

            Harry nudged Niall’s shoulder. “Course man. If this was all about getting my superior composing skills you should’ve just asked.”

            The blonde grinned, showing off his braces. “Well, I still need ya ta watch Liam. And ya know, fulfill his every command.”

            Harry rolled his eyes, smiling softly. “Of course.”

            Niall grinned sheepishly. “Well I’ll be back in a jiffy yeah?”

            “’Kay man!”

            Niall’s eyes widened. “Oh, mate ‘n if the man in black wakes up and turns out to be a serial killer, run ‘n call the police ‘kay?” He turned away and ran down the steps.

            Harry blinked. “Wait! What man?!”

 

            Niall indeed returned quite quickly, carrying a tray of steaming drinks and a bag of pastries from the shop down the street. He placed them on the table and Liam made a face before seeing one of them was his precious Earl Gray. He reached for it eagerly and took a sip. “Ah. Just what the doctor ordered.”

            Harry snorted and grabbed one of the remaining hot ones and taking a sniff. Hot Chocolate. He kicked his feet up on the table. “Ah, you know me so well Nialler.”

            Niall grinned and sipped at his frappe. “Got croissants too.”

            “Sweet,” Harry reached into the bag and took a bite out of one. “Free meal. Score.”

            Liam rubbed his temples, eye twitching slightly. “Harry, get your feet off the table. Your dirt is literally getting on all my stuff.”

            “Yeah yeah perfectionist.” Harry said but obliged.

            Niall brought out his own laptop and turned it on, glancing to the couch where the guy he’d picked up last night lay still asleep. He bit his lip. Maybe he _should_ have taken him to the hospital.

            Liam’s eyes followed his. “Still asleep hmm?”

            “Maybe we should call a doctor or something,” Niall said biting his lip.

            “Nah, I bet it’s just a hangover man, let the dude sleep it off, he’ll wake up soon.” Harry rolled his neck.

            “I guess…,” Niall sighed, “anyway, let’s get the song out the way first yeah?”

 

            A couple hours passed and Niall’s fingers were beginning to cramp but at least he’d finished a draft of a song. It was going on five now and the sun was reflecting harshly off the tall glass buildings across the street, bathing their little flat with a faint orange glow. Niall stared proudly at the sheet music. The song was called _Midnight Memories._

            “God Harry I ever tell ya how much of a genius ya are?” Niall said beaming at his friend. They’d ended up sprawling out on the living room floor (Niall’d cleaned up the vomit) and papers were strewn everywhere. The five of the finished draft sitting in front of him.

            Harry grinned. “Yeah you have man, but I can always stand to hear it again.” He waggled his eyebrows.

            Niall shoved him playfully on the shoulder. “Yer incorrigible.”

            Harry whistled. “Fancy word hot shot.”

            “Shut up.”

            The two laughed and Harry sighed looking at the time. “Well I should probably get going man. You got your draft done and Liam’s gone to sleep so you’re in the clear.”

            Niall nodded and stood up, gathering up his papers and putting them on top of his laptop.

            “Yeah, thanks again mate, I really owe ya one.”

            “Nah dude, it was fun, would’ve just stayed in all day getting high if you hadn’t called anyway,” Harry walked over to the door, “you saved me some money man. Anyway I’ll see you on Monday ‘kay?”

            Niall nodded. “Cya!” The door shut and Niall plopped down on the sofa, alone. He sighed and ran a hair through his hair tugging at the roots before pulling his laptop onto his lap and opening a new document on his screen. He cracked his fingers. Time to get to work on those essays. If he finished the drafts of them tonight he could have Liam proof them in the morning and do final edits in the evening.

            He took out the prompt groaning. _Analyze and support blah blah blah._ Shit. He hated these Essay’s the most. He actually needed to look through the book for specific quotes. God spare him. He sighed and picked up the offensive text. Better get cracking.

            Niall took out a highlight and began outlining his essay. He didn’t know how long he’d been working but he didn’t bother to look up until he heard a groan from the sofa across from him. He jumped slightly in his seat. Fuck. He’d forgotten about that lad.

            Niall sat his laptop down as the other boy finally opened his eyes and sat up. The blonde blinked. His skin was tanned and creamy like a mocha, eyes like liquid amber, brows full but not excessively so. His face had a faint dusting of stubble that just made him look more attractive and his lips, good _god_ , they were perfect. _Sinful._ Niall licked his lips and took a breath. He was breath taking. Beautiful. Gorgeous. He radiated mystery and something about him just pulled Niall in like a trap. He couldn’t resist. How hadn’t he noticed before?

            The man looked around him, brow furrowing as he took in his surroundings before his eyes (those perfect perfect eyes that went with that perfect perfect face) landed on him. The man raised an eyebrow and Niall blushed quickly looking away, realizing he was staring.

            The raven haired man huffed out a breath and crossed his arms across his chest, the tattoos etched on them rippling with the movement of the sinuous muscle beneath them and leaned back into the couch. Sitting. Waiting. Looking a cross between attractively edgy and sexily brooding. Even just getting up his hair was the perfect mix of bed head and sex hair to come off as styled unruly.

            Niall just stared, eyes drinking up the site in front of him, essay forgotten. He really didn’t know what else to do, the man just stared right back, golden eyes boring into him.

            He sighed and fiddled with the bandage on his chest, starting to take it off. Niall finally knocked himself out of his stupor.

            “Ya shouldn’t do that,” He squeaked.

            The man paused, giving him a _look,_ kind of like the one Liam gave except it wasn’t condescending. It came across as just… well… _angry_. And mildly annoyed. Like he couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, but not like he was better than him. More like… he just innately was displeased with everything and decided to take it out on Niall. Through his eyes. Those really sexy eyes that he could stare at all day. It rubbed him the wrong way.

            Raven head didn’t bother answering, just rolled his eyes and kept unraveling the bandages that Niall and spent close to fifteen minutes trying to put on him.

            Niall tapped his foot impatiently and drummed his fingers on the sofa’s armrest. “’Ello?”

            Nothing.

            “I’m talkin’ to ya.”

            Still nothing. Niall’s lips thinned was starting to get pissed. He’d only gotten about two hours of sleep and had been up all day being a slave for Liam and now this… this _fucker_ who he’d taken off the street and brought into his home was giving him the cold shoulder like he fucking owned the place, not even having the decency to _thank_ him for his hospitality!

            “Oi! Black n’ broody talkin’ ‘ere.”

            He paused looked at him for a good five seconds then turned away.

            Niall got up. Climbed over the coffee table (Liam would have his head if he saw him do that but he didn’t care) and snatched the bandage out of his hand. “’Ey, a thank ya would be nice ya know.” Niall spat.

            The man sighed and looked up at him. “Where am I?”

            Niall gaped, “Y-you—.”

            The raven head stood up. “Where am I?” He repeated, eyes locked on his. They seemed to flash for a moment. Glowing gold and Niall found himself saying “London,” without meaning too, like it had been yanked right out of him. Forced from his lips. The man looked away and Niall staggered back. What the fuck was that? Was it his imagination?

            Niall shook his head. “Look mate if ya think that –,”

            The raven head cut him off looking back to him quickly and throwing Niall off balance again with those eyes. “’Thank you for your hospitality,’ or whatever fucking phrase it is you use here to express thanks,” he said drily, voice thick with an accent Niall had never heard before. “Happy?”

            Niall looked away, crossing his arms. That weird sensation didn’t pass over him so he figured it was probably just sleep deprivation.  “It’s a start.”

            The man snorted running a hand through his hair and making it look even sexier if possible. “Well it’s all your getting.”

            Niall scoffed. “Not even gonna tell me yer name? Common courtesy ya know.”

            “Fuck courtesy, what’cha want from me anyway huh? I don’t know you, you don’t know me. I could be a killer for all you know.” He said walking across the room and grabbing his gray shirt and jacket from off the rack. “You don’t need my name.”

            “Well I’m Niall.”

            “Didn’t ask. Don’t care.”

            Niall rolled his eyes, he was starting to realize he really just didn’t like this guy, didn’t matter how attractive he was, he was a total prick. “The shirt’s clean,” he said instead of cursing him out. “Liam’s, my flatmate’s, yer other one was too fecked up to be any good.”

            Niall was ignored, but he was beginning to realize that seemed to be the raven haired mans default setting.

            The lad finished unraveling the bandages on his chest and quickly threw on his shirt, casting an almost furtive glance in Niall’s direction. The blonde furrowed his brow. What was that about?

            He walked to the door and threw it open stepping outside before casting one last look in the blondes direction. He sighed and tipped his head up tapping his foot on the ground, debating something internally, before looking back at him.

            “Zayn.” Was all he said before he ran away.

            Niall blinked. “Zayn…” He shook his head of the shock. Everything had just happened so fast. He ran to the still open door and out looking down the landing and into the street. Nothing. Niall furrowed his brow. Zayn was gone. Niall sighed and walked back to his flat, closing the door behind him. He leaned back against the wood, thumping his head against it before sliding down to the floor, blowing out a breath. He’d sure been a weird one. Young but beautiful.

_Zayn._

**-** **Born to Die///Out of Eden-**

Danielle Peazer, a _Solas_ apprentice of the Holy Church with the gift of clairvoyancy gasped and shot up from her position on the floor, looking around wildly before running down the aisle.

            “Reverend Cowell! Reverend Cowell!” She shouted, honey gold locks bouncing freely as her crimson veil flew off her face – nearly tripping over her long bulky white robes contrasting against her tan skin. “He’s alive! I found him! He’s still alive!”

            Cowell, now twelve years older, though no bit less capable than the days of his youth turned to face the flustered and anxious girl. “What? Calm down. Speak slowly, tell me what you’ve seen.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, miming breathing until she complied.

            “I found Zayn, your grace. He’s alive. It took awhile to find him cause he went through the _Éitear_ which is why it took so long to get a clear vision!”

            “Mmm, I see, clever lad,” He brooded turning away from her and clasping his hands behind his back. “We must call a _Comhairle na Solas_ at once. Find Louis and Perrie, they’ll want to know of this, but make sure they don’t do anything hasty like follow after him until we have a solid plan of our own, for the _Dorcha_ have no doubt located him as well if we have. Their diviners are much more accomplished than the trainee’s we have.”

            Danielle looked bashful at that remark but nodded all the same. “Right away sir!” She turned and almost tripped save the Reverend’s quick reflexes. “One more thing,” He said.

            “Yes?” Danielle asked, panting, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

            “Where exactly beyond the _Éitear_ is he? Did you get a name? A building?”

            “Uhm,” Danielle straightened up, brow furrowing as she tried to recall her vision. “I saw something in a window that said NODNOL, if that helps.”

            Cowell hummed in agreement. “London then.”

            Danielle gasped. “Amazing! So quick! How’d you figure that out?”

            “You said it was reflected. Just flip the order of the letters.”

            Danielle looked up at the ceiling before saying. “Oh.”

            The Reverend chuckled and gently pushed her in the direction of the exit. “Run along. You need to go find Louis and Perrie remember?”

            She instantly brightened. “Of course!” She turned and picked up her robe, making sure she didn’t trip on the ends and ran out the door, the Reverend smiling fondly until she ran out of sight.

            He turned to the priest standing next to him, suddenly serious. “You heard the news. Call the _Comhairle na Solas_ into session at once. We have no time to lose. We can _not_ allow the _Dorcha_ to capture Zayn, he is the last Malik and a _Glas._ If they can persuade him of their cause then the people will follow. We can’t allow that to happen.”

            The Priest nodded. “Of course sir, but you must pardon my gall when I say, I find it fairly unlikely that Sir Malik would be very likely to change sides quite so easily. They did kill his family after all. Cursed him too.”

            “Mmm, let us hope you are right then, but the _Dorcha_ have their dark arts, and they are not afraid to use them. We must act in haste.”

            “Of course.”

            “Let us hope we are not too late.”

* * *

           

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO WHATCHA THINK?! YOU ENJOY IT?!  
> NOT TOO CONFUSED ARE YA?!  
> QUESTIONS?! CONCERNS! FEEDBACK TO MAKE IT BETTER? WANNA BE MY BETA?! LEMMEE KNOW!
> 
> Also Closet Gamer of This which should be my main Focus?  
> You like the smut? Huh huh huhhhh?  
> -Archie
> 
> Chapter Title inspired by Lana Del Rey's Young and Beautiful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHW71g9RVUY
> 
> P.s Not sure bout the whole 999 thing in the UK soooo if that's wrong lemmee know  
> Again I be from the states so if my dialouge is bad/offensive then please let me know how I can fix it to be more accurate :o

**Author's Note:**

> Remember peeps. Comments make the world go round. And they're like little feeders to make me complete this thing :x  
> Poofs with love
> 
> I'll probably start my Gamer/Nerd Ziall fic soon... :x maybe. We'll see
> 
> My rendition of Lana's "Body Electric" If you listen to it some of the lines in the beginning actually make more sense.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bIhPPaVtvY&feature=c4-overview&list=UUq4Nd3sGDdp2g4jTcJKcmQw
> 
> BETA WANTED!!!


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